Love is a fairytale
by Ten Story
Summary: *SPOILER ALERT* Three years after Mythos' departure, Fakir is still trying to write Ahiru back into being a girl. He has tried everything, and Ahiru is starting to feel that she is preventing him from living his life. But their story isn't finished yet.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who died. She sacrificed herself so the boy she loved could regain his heart, only to give it to another. The girl bore no ill will towards the girl who won his heart, nor the boy himself, as she cared for them both deeply and wished only for their happiness. But in wishing for their happiness, she denied the one thing that she felt had defined her – her great love for the boy. And so she sank into loneliness, believing herself unworthy of anyone's love, and what was left of her became trapped in a small body, unable to speak. But there was one friend she had made during her life as a girl that refused to give up on her.

"Fakir! Fakir, wait up!" Pike yelled. Fakir was already running at full speed down the cobblestone path toward his home.

"I can't, Pike. I've got to get home. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Autor and Lilie both sighed and waved, instantly surrendering.

"Don't bother, Pike. Just let him go." Autor said.

"Just this once!" Pike yelled again. "Come on, Fakir! You never hang out with us after school!"

"He's got to get home to take care of his sad little pet. That sweet and depressed face is so cute!"

"Lilie, give it a rest…"

Fakir did not stop. Every day he didn't stay after school for ballet, he'd come straight home to be with her. He had promised her that much. And even after three years, he wouldn't let her down. Not even once.

"Karon, I'm home!" Fakir yelled. A note in the kitchen said Karon was out – he'd be back before dinner.

Fakir slid off his jacket and shoes in his room, his eyes anxiously darting around. "Ahiru, you in here? Ahiru!"

He rushed out back to the backyard, the only other place Ahiru might have been by herself when Karon wasn't home. Outside Fakir's window he had built a little walkway to a birdbath for her, and there she was, cleaning her feathers, primping herself as she did often for Fakir's arrival. She was much bigger than she had been three years ago – Fakir admitted that the bird bath was getting a bit small. Her feathers were more white than they had been before – longer and more elegant. No longer did she have a stubby neck – it too was extending and giving her a nice lean shape. Upon seeing him the sad dullness that had been in her eyes melted away and she noticeably smiled, as best a duck can.

"Hey there, you're looking nice today!"

She floated down (a little clumsily, but not much) and ran to his leg. He hugged her tightly and pulled out a small book from his pocket. He was much taller and had much bigger hands and feet than he had had three years ago, but he was just as handsome, if not more.

"Brought you a new one. This one's about stars. I'll leave it open on the desk like usual."

Ahiru honked in approval and looked at him inquisitively.

"Me? We're working on geometry. Blech."

She honked in a lower tone, almost spitting.

"Yeah, I know. Talk about a snoozer. But I'm doing my best. Speaking of which, I'm really glad you made this decision to keep studying. I know I bugged you to death 'til you agreed but I hope you're starting to enjoy it. This way when you go back to school, you won't be too far behind!"

The duck smiled at him until he turned his back. Her smile instantly faded and she looked sad again.

"Come on, now. Let's get a snack before I do my homework. Oh, did I tell you I got an A on my creative writing assignment? It was really smart to drop one of my dance electives and take this class instead. It's really improving my writing! Soon, Ahiru. Soon enough! Just keep having faith, all right?"

Ahiru unhappily followed Fakir into the house, but not without glancing briefly up to the skies. Her wings, which were fully developed now, could so easily take her into the clouds if she so wished. But in all honesty, there was nowhere she wished to go.

"And plié, then the grand jeté, then the fouetté rond de jambe en tournant… trés bien, Monsieur Fakir. Trés bien. A round of applause, class, if you please."

The class clapped wildly as Fakir finished his presentation. The girls swooned – the boys wilted with envy. Fakir bowed and wiped the sweat from his forehead nonchalantly.

"I think that will be all for today, everyone. Dismissed," said the professor. "Except for you, Monsieur Fakir, and you, Mademoiselle Giselle, please stay. I have something to say to both of you."

Fakir glanced over at Giselle, whom he had only taken assessment of as a dancer previously. He did not notice her long flowing red hair pinned to the sides or her stunning face, her lovely figure or her delicate demeanor. He thought of her as a better-than-average dancer, nothing more. However, his look of apathy was certainly not mirrored in her glance, which was much more passionate.

"I wish to ask the two of you to dance a ballet at the opening of the fire festival. You are the two best dancers we have and it would be a great merit to our school to have you perform in front of the townsfolk. Will you then agree to dance?"

Giselle blushed furiously. "I would be honored to dance for the school and with Monsieur Fakir, professor."

Fakir huffed a little. "Very well, as long as it does not interfere with my current schedule. I have to keep up with my other classes."

"Oh, but I'm afraid it will have to interfere, Fakir. You will need to come after school every day to rehearse. Since you dropped your dance elective for the creative writing elective, we must bring you back up to speed."

"What? I can't do that. It's simply not possible. I refuse."

Giselle gasped quietly. The professor sighed.

"Very well. I can't force you into doing it. However I do wish you hadn't dropped that extra class. Your brilliance _is _suffering for it and therefore your chances at dance college with scholarship are suffering as well. Honestly Fakir you are too good to just let your talent waste away!"

Fakir grabbed his bag and began to walk off. "Your opinion is noted, professor. Good day."

Out in the hallway, Fakir heard a light pattering of feet coming toward him. He did not stop.

"Fakir, please wait." Giselle called.

"No offense, Giselle. You're a decent dancer, but nothing will get in the way of my writing."

"I understand and I respect your decision. I was wondering though if I could walk home with you?"

Somewhat surprised, Fakir looked back at her. He shrugged.

"Do whatever you want."

Ahiru was already half way through the new book Fakir had given her. She didn't have much to do these days anyway. Some of it was above her head, but not much, which she was glad for. She supposed as she got older she was able to concentrate a little better, which made studying easier. If she were still a girl, she thought she'd at least be a C student by now… but it was useless to think about such things. She was not a girl. She was a duck. She wasn't afraid of who she was. In fact, there was only one thing she really feared anymore.

Losing Fakir.

Putting on her best smile, she waddled around the side of the house to the front yard to wait for him.

"Thanks again for walking home with me, Fakir."

"Sure."

Fakir with a girl? A very pretty girl. Ahiru supposed suddenly that he should have been dating by now… and why shouldn't he? He's a good looking man, a great dancer… why should he wait around? … What would there be to wait around for?

"And I do hope you'll reconsider dancing in the fire festival with me. I've always admired you so much, Fakir. I would be so honored."

That look… Ahiru knew that look. She watched the girl fidget, twist her foot in the dirt, blink slowly. The duck resisted the sudden urge to honk angrily.

But what on Earth could have inspired her to do such a thing? Fakir needed to be flirting, to be laughing, to be loving life. Loving anything at all…

"Nothing can interfere with my writing. I have to keep going."

…So that's it. He was putting everything on hold for this writing class?

"If I may ask, why is this class so important to you?"

"It's not something I can talk about."

Noticeably embarrassed, the redhead nodded curtly. "Very well then. I'll leave you to your thoughts. Good day."

Watching her run off, Fakir felt bad. Even after years of not hearing Ahiru's voice, she had still rubbed off on him and it had stuck. He felt bad about being so rude. Reaching out, about to call back to her, he decided against it at last. Only then did Ahiru approach him and rub against his leg. He perked up.

"Hey there! How was your day?"

The duck looked toward the girl.

"Just some girl in the ballet class. Nobody special."

Ahiru looked at him sadly, then at the ground, deep in thought.

The next day Fakir ran home with no after school interruptions, but could not find Ahiru. Out of desperation he ran down to the lake dock, where they sometimes wrote together. Well, Ahiru mostly swam around while Fakir put his feet in the water, bouncing ideas off her and taking notes, but it was close enough.

She was good enough with her wings to be pretty articulate through sign language, but sometimes the "language barrier" was one that couldn't be ignored. Fakir found it frustrating trying to talk to her about his day when she couldn't talk back, but he took pleasure in watching her eyes as he talked, which were always alert and focused totally on him. She was a good friend. She always had been. A friend who didn't deserve what had happened to her.

Deserved not to be turned back into what she really was? To go back to her natural form? …Why should anyone wish to be anything but what they are?

Don't all people do that every single day? And if they didn't, would there be doctors, or scientists, or artists, or political leaders? Would poor men make themselves rich? Would rich men create new dreams for themselves and others by building businesses, homes, libraries, schools… things we all need to make ourselves into things we are not?

Sometimes he regretted so much that he had told her she had to go back. And now he was kicking himself in the face every time he tried to sit down and write her out of it. But could he really? The idea had crossed his mind. Only the person in question can really change who they are. People can't change other people. That has been proven time and time again. But her situation was different… there was magic involved somehow, wasn't there? Oh, hell…

"How else can a duck become a girl, you idiot!" Fakir said to himself.

_All right then. Let's take every fairytale in the world and break it down. Frog prince, prince who becomes a frog becomes a prince again. So he turns back into what he was before. Beauty and the Beast, same deal. The little mermaid… ugh, let's not think about that one. _

_Isn't there any story that has a happy ending for people who want to be something they aren't?_

Fakir ran onto the dock and spotted Ahiru swimming slowly near the pylons. She was so sad – her head was down, her eyes gazing into the water and back at her own reflection. Fakir sighed and sat on the edge of the dock near her.

"Ahiru, want to do some writing? I've been thinking about it on my way here. I think we should try."

The duck did not look back at Fakir.

"Ahiru, what's wrong? Why won't you look at me?"

Gently he took a finger and lifted her beak up to his face. Looking into her eyes, he smiled. Something came to him suddenly.

"Pinocchio." He said. "Remember that story, Ahiru? It's about a boy who wants to be something he's not. And his wish came true. So yours can come true too, can't it?"

Her demeanor did not improve much, but she did perk up a little. He had a good point, after all. Fakir quickly got out his pad of paper and a pen and furiously began scribbling.

"Come on, let's get started!"

They had worked all afternoon with no luck. It was now night, and Fakir had fallen asleep quickly, collapsed on his bed. Ahiru pulled the covers over him with her beak and settled into her nest beneath Fakir's desk. She fell asleep watching his face, as his gentle breathing passed in and out of his open mouth. He was so beautiful, and so kind. If she could go back in time to tell herself in the past that Fakir would be her best friend and most loyal companion, she was sure her old self would laugh at her.

Three years of trying and he had not wavered. He did everything he could to make the magic happen – to turn her back into a girl. But believing in fairytales when you are no longer a child, she supposed, was probably the most difficult thing in the whole world to do.

"Okay, Ahiru, have a good day! I'm off!" Fakir said as he went out the door. Ahiru honked in a friendly way. A few minutes later, she settled down at Fakir's desk to read more of her book, but beneath the papers scattered around on the surface she spotted a flyer. Brushing everything else aside, she studied the flyer carefully.

"Regional Dance Competition Tryouts Friday! Scholarship opportunities for the winners!"

Ahiru lit up. She quickly bolted out Fakir's bedroom window and then towards the road. She loved watching him dance, and was sure he would try out at the professor's insistence. It was odd Fakir hadn't talked to her about it, though. He usually told her everything. Of course, he hadn't told her about the girl who had followed him home from school the other day, but if she knew anything about Fakir, she knew he would say, "Why was that important?" or something to that effect.

Ahiru scurried behind a bush near the ballet studio front door, looking for an opportunity to sneak in. She was surprised by what she heard from three students gossiping near her.

"So do you think I have a chance to make it?"

"Sure you do, especially since Fakir isn't competing."

"He's not? Why?"

"He insisted that his writing was more important. Even the teachers couldn't convince him!"

"I heard that next semester he's thinking about dropping out of ballet altogether."

"No! That can't be true!"

"He wants to do this writing thing full time now!"

"What would that mean for the school?"

"How selfish of him!"

…Fakir wanted to giving up dancing? For good? Ahiru blanched at the thought. No wonder he didn't bring it up to her – he knew she would protest. But what was worse was the realization that he was doing it for her. That hit her in the stomach like a cannonball. He was surrendering everything for her sake!

This had to end. It had gone on three years too long. She should have flown away the moment she had said goodbye to Mytho and Rue! To think she had lingered and allowed Fakir to poison himself with this…

With tears in her eyes, Ahiru nodded with conviction. It was time to stop. And there was only one way to do that.

Quickly she took flight and headed south, not looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

Fakir ran. He ran in the rain, screaming over the thunder. Karon ran after him.

"AHIRU! COME BACK AHIRU!"

"Fakir, come back inside! You're going to get sick!"

"NO! NOT WITHOUT HER! She could be hurt, or worse!"

Karon finally caught up with the boy and grabbed him around the shoulders. Fakir sank to his knees weeping – Karon followed.

"Fakir, she is a wild animal. It was a miracle she stayed with you this long. She belongs out there near the lakes and the forests. She must be what she was born as. She is not human."

For a long while, Fakir did not speak, and Karon was wise enough to not hurry him inside. He let Fakir sit in the rain, let him sob. He hadn't cried in years.

"She was human! She still is!"

_Dearest Fakir,_

_ It hurts me so badly to leave you. It hurts me even more that you will never know why, as I am only a bird and cannot write. I can only think these thoughts in my mind; imagining I am writing you this comforts me. But if I could tell you anything, I would say that I accepted myself just the way I am the day I gave up being a girl. There is nothing wrong with knowing your place in the world, just like you said. But my heart, nevertheless, was still broken before I turned back into a bird. Broken over the fact that I was rejected by the man I loved. And a broken heart is very much still a human heart._

_ You are the last thing that is keeping me connected to my human pain. You give me hope that I might once again be a girl and fall in love with someone, and have someone love me. But the truth is nobody can love me. It's not my place to be loved by a human. And the longer I stay with you, the longer I keep you from the life you deserve to have – the longer I keep you from your place in the world. When we are together, we fool ourselves into a fairytale world, when once we fought so hard to escape another one. We must wake ourselves from the dream, Fakir. We must be honest and true, and make our own decisions._

_Truly your best friend,_

_Ahiru _

Days had passed. Fakir did not go to school. He sat at his desk and tried to write.

But not a single word would come to him. He tried screaming – throwing things – talking to himself. Anything to get his brain to work out the problem in his head. The problem of truth.

"How is he?"

"Terrible. He hasn't moved hardly at all."

"Do you think I could go in to see him today?"

Karon sighed and gestured to Fakir's door.

"You can try."

Autor gently lowered the door handle and walked inside the dark space.

"Fakir? You here?"

Fakir still sat at his desk. Staring at blank sheets of paper. Tired. Alone.

Autor sat on the bed.

"Hey. Pike and Lilie are worried about you. Everyone is. Well, Lilie kind of just wants to see how cute you look all depressed, but heh, that's Lilie for you. So um… you okay?"

No answer.

"So eh… have you been working on that creative writing assignment we have? Pretty inferior to yours and my skills, I know, but still, an assignment is an assignment."

Fakir turned his head to Autor slowly.

"What I have to write, only _I can_ write. Get out, Autor. Leave me."

The boy shrugged. "Suit yourself, Fakir. But we're here if you need us."

Even more days later, staring at the same blank piece of paper, pen in hand, for hours and hours on end, Fakir finally broke down.

_Is it right to live a lie and be happy, or to live truth and be miserable? What is the right thing? When I told her to go back to being a bird, I was so sure truth was the answer._

"WHAT IS TRUTH? WHAT IS IT?" he cried aloud.

_I've got to find the answer. I've got to find it NOW. If I don't, the further she'll fly, the further she'll get away, and the more she'll think I don't want her here! _

His foot gently touched the edge of Ahiru's nest under the desk. One of her white feathers rolled toward him. He picked it up with wonder.

"Only one person can help me." He suddenly said, gasping. "Only one."

By the full moonlight, Fakir ran to the tree. The tree that had once given him the power to write. It was there he called out.

"Mythos! Please! Answer me!"

For a few moments, all was quiet. Fakir was just about to yell again when a great light came from the stars, shimmering downwards. The image of his dear friend, Mythos, appeared transparent, like a ghost. He too was older, with longer hair and a stronger frame.

"Dearest Fakir, why have you summoned me? You know our two worlds cannot meet or else Drosselmeyer might return."

"I understand that, Mythos, but I have to risk it. You don't understand, it's… it's Ahiru. I can't find her anywhere! I've tried for three years, Mythos, three years to write her out of that body! I've used Drosselmeyer's pens, special paper, I've taken classes, I've given up ballet to write better… but nothing I do works! The power has left me! And now she's run away!"

"My dear friend, the power obviously hasn't left you, or else I would not be talking to you. … But I'm afraid the only thing that can save our little Ahiru is a heart shard."

"A heart shard?"

"Yes. That is what turned her into Princess Tutu, so that is what can make her a girl once more."

"But who's heart shard? Surely not yours."

"Only you can answer that, my friend. However, I give you this gift to aid you on your path."

As if my magic, the branches of the tree parted and a sword appeared – Mythos' sword. Fakir took it without a second thought. His heart was full of conviction. The moment his eyes beheld it he knew what Mythos was saying.

"You are prepared then, Fakir?"

"Yes, I am."

"Take care, friend."

"Mythos! …Thank you."

The ghostly figure disappeared again with the fading of starlight. And Fakir set out.

Just a few miles north of town, Ahiru settled in a clearing near the very lake she first saw Mytho. She smiled to herself as she remembered that day – how she had said she would give her life to make him smile again, and how much she had meant it. She had even gotten a chance to prove it.

Loving someone isn't about getting what you want. It's about giving what you covet the most.

But still, how it hurt.

With whatever magic that was left inside her snowy white body, Ahiru flapped her wings, pointed them upward, and began to turn to stone. Her tears petrified her feathers as they came down, and the water from the lake formed a fountain around her, also frozen in stone.

_I will no longer feel pain. I will finally be free. …This may not be my place in the world, but it's the only place I want to be._

Very soon there was no more movement. All there seemed to be in the clearing was the statue of a noble swan with her wings open, perched on waves of water. Birds began to flock to it, to nest for the evening. This is where they felt at home.

The sword guided him. It guided him so perfectly he did not need to search with his eyes as he ran through the woods – he only reached out with his heart. The sword could easily sense a fairytale being such as Ahiru, and Fakir sped on as quickly as he could with the silver glinting weapon clutched in his hands.

At last he came upon the glade. When he saw the statue, he wept. He was too late.

"Ahiru, I'm sorry Mythos left you. I'm sorry I never talked to you about it before now! I should have been a better friend to you. I should have comforted you! It must have been so awful, him telling you that he chose Rue over you right to your face after you had given all you had! And I'm here to tell you that even though he's my best friend, and he's a prince, he is undeserving! He is undeserving of you! Everyone who has ever been your friend is! You are a wonderful girl. The best girl that ever was! There is no one who has ever been better at being a human than you, a duck. And you know what else? I was wrong! I was wrong to tell you three years ago that you had to go back to being what you were. It was like telling someone who was mean and learned to be nice that they had to go back to being mean! It was so stupid of me to say that to you, when NO ONE should know their place in the world! That's how we live in monotony, and that's how people like Drosselmeyer can become powerful, when all people want is a fairytale! Even me. I want a fairytale, Ahiru. I want you. I love you, Ahiru! And you are so deserving of love that I am barely worthy enough to love you."

Fakir raised the sword high and plunged it into his chest. A great light shot out like a fountain, showering him with golden rays that glittered. Leaping out of his chest, his ruby heart emerged, breaking into ten pieces. Clutching the glowing wound, weakly Fakir reached out for the piece that looked the most warm. He placed it upon the breast of the statue.

"Ahiru, I give you… hope."

Immediately passing out, Fakir rolled on the grass a few feet away from the fountain, which melted into gold light. From the center, the duck flying melted into waves of gold shooting up all around a naked girl with long hair, beautiful eyes, a voluptuous figure with full breasts, and small, sweet hands and feet. Happily she walked down, the gold rising to meet her every step, lowering her gently. With one hand she reached out, the heart pieces magnetically drawn to her and into one piece with only a small hole in the center. Placing Fakir's head in her lap, she restored his heart to him, lights of every color shooting up into the sky. He awoke abruptly.

"Wh-What happened? I… Ahiru?"

Ahiru smiled at him.

"I love you, Fakir."

Fakir smiled back, his eyes full of tears. He reached out and enveloped her in his strong arms, kissing her for the first time, rolling his fingers across the beautiful skin on her back. Ahiru ran her fingers through Fakir's rich hair, touching his face, his chest. They laid back on the grass, anxiously touching and loving one another as they kissed.

"I tried everything." He said in between anxious breaths. "Everything in the world."

"I guess you didn't need to be Drosselmeyer." Ahiru said happily. "All you had to do was give me a piece of your heart. When you love someone, fairytales _can_ be real."

"This is one fairytale I hope will never end."

"To keep Drosselmeyer out, we may have to go to Mythos's world. It may be the only place to stay safe."

Fakir smiled. "I don't care. I'd gladly give up this life to be with you."

"But what about your dancing?"

"The only dancing I will do is with you, in the court of a Prince."

Ahiru kissed him passionately. "Then let's say our goodbyes to our friends, and then go."

And they lived happily ever after…


End file.
